Supernatural SI
by SAOAddict
Summary: I insert myself into the Supernatural show. Ideas is to start with Season 1 through 13. A chapter/an episode-ish. Bugs should be interesting.
1. Prologue

I had always been a pretty massive nerd. Not in a weasely, loser kind of way, more in the normal guy with super-nerdy interests. Anime, manga, comics, what have you. And, like most nerds, I wound up hooked on Supernatural. I mean, how could you not love it? A couple of dumbasses wandering around killing monsters and getting in fights over stupid shit. Now, there are a couple things about me it's important to know before I tell my story: first, I'm not incapable. Hell, I'm an Eagle Scout, and I keep myself reasonably fit. I'm also eighteen, which is less important but still worth noting. Oh, and I grew up in the South, so guns and knives were pretty much part of how I was brought up.

Anyways. The night all the crazy shit started was a few days after my eighteenth birthday. I had just finished my last day of my senior year of high school, and I was up late finishing up the latest season of Supernatural, season thirteen. It was probably about three in the morning, and I was about to conk out. Last thing I remember thinking was something along the lines of, "Why is this world so fucking boring?", then I fell asleep. When I woke up, I wasn't in Kansas anymore, Toto.


	2. Chapter 1

When my eyes opened, I was standing on the sidewalk, across from a building that looked vaguely familiar. As I stood there, two very important things happened: first, a giant of a man walked out the front door of the building, a woman next to him. Second, I realized that the man was Sam Winchester, and the woman was his girlfriend, Jessica. The one who died at the end of the pilot back in season one.

"Oh, fuck," I whispered. "This is _not_ good."

As I watched, Sam kissed Jess and walked away. Based on the fact that I didn't see the Impala or Dean anywhere, I had time before he showed up and kicked off the events that led to thirteen years of adventures. I turned and walked away as quickly as I could. I had plans I need to put into motion. The first thing I needed to do was confirm the date, so I knew how much time I had to work with. Within a couple of minutes, I found a newspaper stand and checked the date on the paper. September 12, 2005. The day before Dean showed up, or at least the day before the pilots' air date. Now that I knew the timeline, I had work to do.

That evening, I had what I needed. A small box, a bone from a black cat, and a small picture of myself. A dirt crossroads was harder to find than I expected, but find one I did. The box buried, I stood aside to wait. Finally, a demon appeared in a gout of fire and brimstone, obviously trying to intimidate the poor mortal who summoned it, me.

"What do you want, mortal? I am-," the demon started to talk before I cut it off.

"You're a demon. Shut the fuck up and do what I say. Get me Crowley," I barked.

"Make me, human," it hissed.

"Look down, you stupid piece of shit," I laughed. I had scored some spray paint from a convenience store and painted a devil's trap centered around the burial spot.

The demon growled. "RELEASE ME!" it shouted.

"Don't worry, I will," I reassured it. "It's not like I have a way to kill you anyways. But, I could exorcise you, or you could just get Crowley to get his sorry ass up here. All you need to contact him is in the circle." I gestured to a bowl of blood I had stolen from a butcher shop on my way out of town.

"Fine," the demon growled. "No guarantees he'll come."

"Just tell him that the person who wants him knows where his bones are buried. He'll come quickly for that." The demon bent over the bowl and seemed to faze out for a moment, before looking back up at me.

"He'll come. Just as soon as you break the circle."

"Fair enough." I stepped forward and wiped out part of the circle with my foot. Instantly, the demon smoked out, and another, bright red column of smoke appeared and entered the host.

The new demon stumbled a moment, then it's eyes snapped open, revealing them to be blood red. "Hello, darling," it purred. "I hear you claim to know where my bones are."

Admittedly, hearing one of Crowley's signature lines in an American accent was strange, but it didn't throw me off my stride. "Yeah, that was bluff. I have no idea where they are right now," I smiled. "But, I have a deal to make, and I'm pretty sure the the best crossroads demon is the only one with the juice to pull it off."

Crowley frowned. "Who are you? A hunter?" he asked.

I simply smirked. "No. But I am someone who could prove very useful to you in the future."

"A seer, then?"

"Of a kind. But to make sure things turn out the way they're meant to, I need something from you."

"And what would that be?"

"Make me a demon. In return, I'll advise you should you require it. Though fair warning, my advice might not always pay off until later. Things may be… uncomfortable, but they will turn out in your favor."

"Interesting. Blunt and honest. Fine, I'll grant this contract. Now, come here."

"I'm not kissing you, Crowley."

"Fine. Shake then?"

"That works."

A handshake later, I was a demon and Crowley was gone. Now that phase one of my plan was complete, I needed to get my hands on weapons and wheels. After all, it wouldn't do for the Winchesters to know they were working with a demon.


	3. Author's Note

Hey guys, this is that author. First of all, thanks for reading this. Second of all, if you have any ideas, criticisms, what have you, please PM me and I'll try to respond. On that note, if you're just going to bitch about something you didn't like but isn't bad storytelling, please starts you're PM with the words "I'm just here to bitch at you". This is my first time posting something up here, but not my first time writing something like this. Hope you keep reading and enjoy the story, and please let me know if you have any suggestions. I plan to follow the series pretty closely, with occasional tweener chapters describing what the OC is doing to get ready. I'm hoping to do a chapter an episode, though that may change, and I hope to put out at least a chapter a day. If I can't, I'll post something to that effect. Also, the OC will most likely remain unnamed. The idea is that he'll become kind of a younger sibling to the Winchesters, and will most likely be referred to as 'kid' or whatever. Well, thanks for reading, and I hope you like the story!


	4. Chapter 1 and a Half

So, I was a demon now. That made my life easier, as I no longer needed to eat or sleep, meaning I didn't really need money. It would also make it easy to get my hands on the things I needed: weapons and transportation. My first stop was a gun shop back in town. They were closed for the night, so I did what any demon trying to make it look like a random burglary would do: used my new powers to smash the lock and the alarm. Then I wondered in and did some shopping.

An hour later, I walked out carrying an AR-15, a Hecker & Koch 9mm USP, a Mossberg Shockwave, and more ammo than I would need in a lifetime. Being a demon really made things easier. I hid my loot out in the woods outside town, then raided a hardware store for a machete and rock salt. I knew how to make my own loads from my previous life, so making myself rock salt shells wouldn't be a problem. I found a place to do the work, and by midnight I had salt shells ready to go, along with the rest of my gear stowed away. The USP went into a concealed holster in the small of my back, where I could hide it behind a jacket, or, since I would be hanging out with Winchesters, a flannel. The Shockwave I slung across my back with a strap I had nabbed, and the AR and ammo boxes I left hidden while I went to get myself a vehicle.

I poofed out of my hiding spot, popping back up at a used car dealership on the outskirts of town. I looked around trying to figure out what the best car to take would be. Nothing too flashy or noticeable, but I didn't want something boring either. Afterall, what was the point of being a demon in another world if you couldn't have some fun?

Finally, my gaze rested on the perfect car for my purposes. A British racing green '67 Shelby GT350. Not huge on space, but there was enough room in the trunk to build a gun locker, and it could move. Not to mention it looked good. I nabbed the keys from the sales office, started it up, and drove off. I stole the plates off of a random car on my way out of town, flipping them out to make it harder to trace. Back at my hiding place, I loaded all my gear into the Shelby, and started the drive to Jericho, California to meet the Woman in White.


End file.
